Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
by SepticLovebite
Summary: "You're not really spendin' the whole night with the women are you?" He asked. SWIFT RETREATS ARC.
1. Chapter 1

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Author's Note: Thanks for reviews on my previous works, I am super grateful. I think someone has linked to "Maternity Bras..." somewhere on the internet as I noticed yesterday it has gotten an insane amount of hits. Thank you so much, whoever you are.

It's been pointed out to me that Georgia doesn't get much in the way of snow. For the purposes of this story universe we shall either say it does or they are in a more northern state. If I decided the latter, I'll be sure to write about it at some point. I live in Wales, we get pretty much only rain...ever.

Super thanks to ShazzyZhang for awesome accent advice.

Yes, the title is taken from the amazing Cyndi Lauper song. "I wanna be the one to walk in the sun" is my new favourite lyric.

Have some more fluffy fluff!

The group had been set up at Swift Resorts for some weeks now, arriving just a few weeks before winter really took hold and sent them running for warmth. The snow arrived three weeks previous, a few flakes here and there that gradually turned into a snowstorm that buried them into the lodge they were now calling home. Although, for how long, no-one knew.

Every morning, two members of the group would brave the biting sub zero temperatures to clear the paths between the main lodge, where they would all spend most of their days, to the out buildings where they stored two jetskis scavenged on the last trip of the autumn season and a second building that housed their excess wood for the fire. Carol had initially volunteered for this task only when it was absolutely her turn, dreading having to wear half a dozen layers, only for it not to be even close to enough. She usually made a complete ass of herself by slipping in slush half a dozen times in the hour or so it took to complete the task. Everytime she paired up with Daryl for the chore he usually spent most of it laughing at her, no mean feat for a man who's facial expression almost never changed from "bored". But, as the snow climbed higher and there became less things to do in the lodge, she found herself incredibly grateful for a break in the monotony. There was also the added bonus of a bowl of hot water to soak her numb feet afterwards. Yes, that was definitely worth it.

Other than this chilly task, the main other job equally shared among the group was watch duty, which was performed on the top floor of the lodge, the former penthouse suite. With walls mostly comprised of glass and two balconies, it provided the perfect view point to spot any unwelcome visitors, dead or undead.

Daryl became very restless as time went on, unable to hunt in foot deep snow. Even if he could, there would be little to find. The group were very lucky to have stockpiled enough food to last them several months if need be. He often paced around the lodge in circles, tapping his hands against any surface as he went. He volunteered to do more guard duty than the others, although Rick tended to shoot this offer down frequently, wanting everyone to do their share. He cleaned his crossbow everyday, Checked the guns every other. The winter was clearly slowing down the Walkers, they hadn't spotted one in two weeks, even through binoculars. Everyone seemed to be letting their guard down somewhat.

Carol had discovered some wool and needles in one of the staff rooms just the previous week and settled herself down to knit some things for the baby, filling some time. It was a hobby that she had enjoyed as a child, taught by her grandmother and she found it quite a pleasurable way to fill an hour or two in the evening.

"How many feet do you think this baby is gonna have?" Daryl asked her one day, as she was finishing up the last few rows of her fourth pair. He sat on the floor in front of the fire, resting against Carol's knees, picking up the ball of yellow wool by Carol's feet and tossing it from hand to hand.

"As many as I need to keep the boredom away." She told him, needles clacking. "Why? Haven't you found something to do yet?"

"Naw. Cleaned all the guns. Cleaned my bow. Wood is done. Path is done." He started to unravel the ball of wool.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, before Carol noticed what he was doing. She looked down as him, exasperated. "Hey, don't tangle it up or you can sort it out."

"Somethin' to do then." The man muttered, although he stopped and started to roll it back. "We would not be havin' this problem if we stuck about in Georgia."

"Enjoy it Daryl! Come Spring it'll be back to running for our lives. I think this is the first time in months I've slept through the night."

"'S too good to be true. Don't stop being prepared Carol. We don't know if there could be a herd of Walkers ploughin' through here tomorrow." He stoked the fire a little, before standing up.

Before she could reply, Maggie came bounding into the room, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"It's November 18th tomorrow!" She told them. They looked at her blankly. "It's Beth's 18th birthday! Eighteen on the eighteenth!"

"Maggie, birthdays...well, they're kind of not a big deal anymore." Carol told her gently. "I mean, does Beth even know what date it is?"

"No, so we should surprise her! I saw some of that instant cake stuff in the stores. Can you help me make it? I'd ask Lori, but she's got her head down the the toilet again. I think the smell of coffee set her off today."

Daryl muttered obscenities under his breath, at Maggie or Lori, or even both, Carol couldn't be sure. She turned and shot him a look of warning anyway.

"Sure, after all, it's not every day a girl turns eighteen. She's on watch tomorrow right? We'll do it then, smell shouldn't rise up that far. We can keep it in my room. In fact, remember those things I brought home from that outlet?" She gave Maggie the smallest winks and a look of recognition crossed her face.

"Girls night in?" She asked.

Carol nodded. "Why not? We'll have a private party. Think we can get your dad to go in another room for the night? We can all camp in with you then."

"It'll happen! Thank you so much Carol, she'll be so pleased!" With that she turned and bounced back out of the room.

"What the hell is that all 'bout?" Daryl asked, a look of bafflement on his face.

"Enjoying the fun while we can. So, if you're bored, do you want to learn how to make a cake?" She put her knitting in the basket on the side table, deciding to finish it after making the cake.

He snorted, extending a hand to help her up. "If it ain't squirrel, I ain't cooking it. I don't go in for that shit. But I want some of that cake." He told her, following her to the kitchen.

Carol had successfully managed to bake the cake in secret, without any assistance from Maggie at all. No mean feat with Daryl sitting himself on the countertop, dipping his fingers into the mix everytime she turned her back. Back in the old days, she enjoyed making cakes from scratch, but now, with no fresh ingredients she was hoping a liberal spread of frosting would disguise the artificial taste somewhat.

She ended up giving him the frosting bowl when she finished and like a small child, he eagerly set to clearing it. She spelt of the number 18 in chocolate drops and ate the last few whilst watching him scrape the last dregs from the bowl.

"Couldn't do that in Georgia now, could you?" She smirked, taking the bowl from him, reaching out and wiping a smudge of chocolate from his top lip. He harrumphed and drew her into him, using his legs to pull her close.

"You're not really spendin' the whole night with the women are you?" He asked, running his fingers down her sides and stopping to twirl the tie of her cardigan round his fingers.

"Yup. You'll have to keep your own company tonight."

"Warmer than your icebox feet anyways." He told her.

"Quit whining like a woman. Honestly, I change my mind, I can't wait for this snow to disappear so you can stop _moping._"

Daryl didn't even bother to deny it. "A whole night of Glenn telling me how much he loves Maggie. Carl bugging me to play cards. Rick'll be bangin' on about the baby. Pfft. I'm going to see if Hershel will let me take his watch tonight."

Carol chuckled, pulling away to put the mixing bowl in the sink.

"It's one night, you'll live."

Daryl wasn't sure he would.

Part 2 shall be with you in the next day or two. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the kind reviews. You guys make my days :) I'll be honest, I found this one hard. I hope Drunk!Carol was ok. If anyone has any Caryl requests, please PM me. I can't promise on delivering them, or deliver them completely as expected but I'd be happy to try!

Onto Part 2!

The giggling started around five, when the girls made dinner for themselves and ignored everyone else, heading upstairs.

Carl heard them heading up the stairs and peered out from the communal room, sniffing the air.

"Mom? Is that pasta I can smell? Is dinner ready?" He asked, looking at her plate hungrily.

"Oh no, honey, your daddy is gonna sort you out for tonight. We're up in Beth's room for the rest of the evening. See you tomorrow baby, have fun with the boys." Lori didn't even wait for a response before hot footing it up the stairs, plate in hand, a bag of potato chips under her arm.

Glenn and T-Dog came to the door behind Carl, noses sniffing out the smell of freshly cooked tomato and basil pasta. "Did she just saw there's no dinner?" Glenn sounded mournful. "They didn't make any for us?"

"She said they were stayin' in Beth's room." Carl turned to look at his father. "But they always make us dinner."

"Well tonight boys, we're on our own." He stood up and gently pushed his son towards the kitchen. "Come on, we're men! We can knock together a plate of pasta."

He put on a brave smile as he walked to the kitchen. Carl frowned, recalling his father's attempts at cooking back before the Walkers. "Maybe Dad, we should just stick to something like soup. Easy food."

"What are you talking about Carl? It's easy to make pasta."

TWDTWDTWD

Forty minutes later, Carl pushed his fork around his plate with distaste. The pasta was congealing slowly, clumping together in an unpleasant fashion.

Rick and the others ploughed on, ignoring the fact that the food they were eating was tasteless and unappetising. A sharp peal of laughter rang out from above them, causing everyone to wince. Daryl opened the door to the kitchen, having been relieved from his shift on watch by Hershel, who once hearing the girls' plans for the evening, refused to swap shifts with him, wanting to escape the noise from the bedroom two floors below.

"Rick, I'm bettin' that wailin' is your woman's. Is she drunk or what? Pretty sure that's bad for the baby." He looked into the pot sitting on the cooker top, pulled the serving spoon out only for a hunk of concealed pasta to come with it, set into the shape of the pot. "Who managed to fuck up pasta?"

"Dad." Carl pushed his chair out and put the plate, still heaped with his meal, into the sink. "I'm going to go see if Hershel wants help." The boy skulked out of the room, clearly still sore about his mother abandoning them for the night.

"Seriously man, how did you fuck up pasta?"

"It's hard!" Glenn interjected, swallowing the last of his barely edible meal.

"You are such pussies. Seriously, you wail on about how the women need protectin' when reality is, you'd _starve_ without them! Soft, the lot of ya." He chucked the pot into the sink and rooted in the pantry for something else to eat.

"Hey, you eat their food too man!" T-Dog had remained silent for most of the exchange, trying to consume his meal, but piped up after conceding defeat on the stodge.

"Yeah, because it gives me more time to go hunt the stuff in the first place! At least I can cook what I kill, how do you think Carol and Lori knew how to do it in t'first place?" Daryl reached to the back of the top most shelf, finding the box of instant mashed potatoes and a tin of ham. It would do. He was still thinking about that birthday cake though.

TWDTWDTWD

By 10.30, Lori, Maggie, Beth and Carol had painted their fingers and toes varying shades of red, Carol had ripped up a spare pillow case and twisted rags in their hair, except for her own. Two bottles of wine had been drunk between she, Maggie and Beth and Carol was starting to feel a little tipsy. She'd hardly ever touched alcohol before the Walkers came and the last time she had a glass was at the CDC, some months ago. Lori had demolished a jumbo bag of chips and was now proceeding to smear face masks on each of them.

"So, Carol, what's with you and Daryl huh?" Beth giggled as she spoke, causing deep creases to form in her white mask.

"What do you mean?" Carol feigned innocence as she finished tying the last rag into Maggie's hair.

"Well, we all know that he seems to come out your room every single morning."

Carol blushed and fidgeting with the spare rags on her lap. "It isn't like _that_, honestly. I...I don't know what it is, but I know it's _not_ what you're thinking."

"So you're not gettin' freaky with our favourite redneck?" Maggie deadpanned, causing the room to burst into peals of laughter.

"That's what you kids call it these days?" Carol, struggled to get her breathe after laughing so hard. "In my day, it was called making love."

""In my day"? You are not that much older." Maggie scoffed. "And don't detract from the question!"

"No, I am not getting freaky with Daryl Dixon. My goodness." She stood up, hitching her pajama bottoms a little higher. She'd managed to scavenge some pajama sets for most of the group some weeks ago, choosing the pale blue satin edged with peach lace for herself. They were pretty, making her feel a little like a princess, although they were modest, the hem of the trousers touching her ankles, the strappy vest covering her midriff. She hadn't had the courage to where them whilst sharing a bed with Daryl yet. "Now, I am pretty sure there is another bottle of white wine hidden in the larder, if anyone wants it?

Beth raised her hand eagerly, the young girl was clearly unused to drinking but eager to change that.

"Only because it's your birthday, young lady." Lori warned, smoothing the last of the face mask onto her forehead. "If there's any more chocolate down there, fancy smuggling some up?"

Carol nodded, picked up a candle and headed for the door, she was definitely drunk, she decided as she took the stairs slowly.

Everything seemed a little fuzzy, especially as the candles had all been blown out and the emergency lights had been turned off for the night. She fumbled her way to the kitchen, hand out to find the table where several torches were kept. She touched the hard plastic of one, when a light snapped on behind her, causing her to jump out of skin.

"You!" She pointed at Daryl, before turning for the larder, hell bent on finding the much longed for bottle of wine.

"What the hell happened to your face?" He asked, following her into the stores.

Carol giggled. "Face masks. Smoothes the skin." She giggled again, what was _wrong _with her? She knew she sounded ridiculous but she couldn't seem to help it.

"Are you drunk?" Daryl grasped her by the arm to look at her properly.

"I _may_ have had a little wine. I may have a little more if I could find the bottle that I know is here."

Daryl reached over her for the bottle that was on the topmost shelf. "That stuff on your face looks disgustin'."

"It's supposed to, that's how it works." She took the bottle from him and patted his cheek. "Thank you Daryl. Now, Lori wants chocolate."

"Nuh-uh. You got cake and I know you took the chips. You ain't gettin' the chocolate." He found the bar he knew she would look for and snatched it out of the way."

"It's Beth's birthday! I would also like to point out that you don't mess with a hormonal pregnant woman who wants chocolate. It could hurt." She told him, hand outstretched.

"I didn't get any of this crap on my birthday."

"Well, you didn't tell me it was your birthday. But now I know, maybe I'll get you a belated present."

Daryl groaned. Why was she tormenting him like this? "Why don't you just go wash that crap off your face and come to bed?" He offered, tucking the chocolate in his back pocket.

"You really don't get the point of girl's night in, do you? You'll have to cope by yourself for tonight." She stepped closer to him, so close he could smell the wine on her breath. Her arm slid round his waist, finding the chocolate. "You're a big boy Daryl, you'll survive."

He sighed softly, fisting the hem of her camisole in his hand. "This new? How come I ain't seen this before?" He asked softly, tugging it.

Carol shrugged and blushed, head dipping down. She couldn't believe she had been so bold, she wanted to back away but he wouldn't let her, holding tight to her camisole, his other hand resting on the counter behind her.

He leant down and brought his lips to hers, kissing her slowly and deeply. She drew herself to him, lips melding with his, dropping the chocolate and sliding an arm round his neck. After several moments she pulled away to take a breath, chuckling at the sight of Daryl, his mouth, nose and chin marked with face mask. She wiped at it with her thumb, whilst he scowled.

"Are ya comin' to bed or what?" He asked, finally letting go of her to pick up the fallen chocolate.

"No." She smiled, taking the chocolate from him. "See you tomorrow." She gave him another kiss, a peck this time and disappeared upstairs, leaving Daryl once again, grateful for cold showers.

TWDTWDTWD

By one in the morning, the face masks had been wiped off and the girls had fallen asleep, crammed into the one kingsize bed. Beth had been the last to drop, declaring it the best day she'd had since Walkers roamed the earth and her second best birthday ever, superceded only by her seventh birthday, when he father bought her a pony. Carol suspected it was the wine that made it her second best birthday.

She tossed restlessly, unable to warm her icy hands and feet despite the many bodies in the bed. Sighing, she got up, giving up on sleep. Hopefully the others wouldn't mind that she ditched them for the redneck she _wasn't_ getting freaky with. Spotting the last slice of birthday cake sitting on the dresser, she took the plate with her, hoping he would accept the peace offering.

She crept into her room quietly, setting the cake on the bedside table on his side of the bed. She stumbled over his boots and he shot up, all rumpled hair and tired eyes. "Wha's wrong?" He murmured groggily.

"Couldn't sleep." She slid in beside him and he shuffled over to make room. "I brought you cake."

"Good. I wanted that damn cake." He hissed softly as she pressed her frozen feet to his calves.

"I'm definitely going to have a hangover tomorrow. Why did you let us have that last bottle?" She moaned snuggling into him.

"I was powerless against those pajamas." He whispered, once again wrapping his hand in the hem of the shirt.

"Then I'll wear them more often." She yawned, arm stretched across him, almost catlike. She sighed with contentment and fell asleep quickly.

Cake, Carol and silky pajamas? Daryl decided the women could have Girls Night In more often.


End file.
